


Truths in the Candlelight

by Castlewood_Bard



Category: The Tudors (TV)
Genre: Disagreement, Fights, Flirting, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, War, kingdom - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27841969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castlewood_Bard/pseuds/Castlewood_Bard
Summary: Charles Brandon has lost hope for happiness, but his heart still calls to his oldest friend.
Relationships: Charles Brandon/Henry VIII of England
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Truths in the Candlelight

**Author's Note:**

> Written before finishing the show and set somewhere in the middle of season 4. I wasn't sure if I was going to write this but the idea wouldn't leave me alone. Let me know what you think and enjoy :)

It was time Charles faced facts. Catherine did not love him anymore, and had not loved him for a long time. It broke his heart more than words could say. He’d always tried to be the best husband, no, the best man, he could be for her. But that hadn’t been enough. His past haunted her more than it haunted him now. He didn’t blame her. Besides, how could he be the best man for her if he wasn’t even that for himself. His ghosts followed him everywhere. They had taken over his body and mind, and he doubted they would ever let go. 

Seasons changed. He  eventually let Catherine go completely. It wasn’t fair to keep her in a place she hated. He let her take their son, too. Better he grow up far from court.  Maybe then he wouldn’t turn out like his father. It was lonely, but worth every moment of solitude.

These thoughts played through Charles’ mind as he sat at yet another banquet. Enemies flitted in the corner of his eye, past and present. He couldn’t relax. Everything around him reminded him of a mess he’d either made or cleaned up. 

Then the king beckoned him over with a gloved hand. Charles tried to ignore the heat that gesture raised in his stomach as he marched over. 

“What troubles you, Charles? You sit alone, looking like a caged animal. Ready to attack? I hear news that the Emperor sends troops to France any day now.” The king’s voice was low and filled with excitement.

“No, Your Majesty, quite the opposite.” Charles sighed. Why did his friend always see a battle where none existed?

“What is it then? You look downright miserable.” Henry’s tone shifted to slight annoyance. A clear sign he’d had his fair share of wine. The tiny voice in the back of Charle’s mind wondered when he had memorized all the king’s tells, but he pushed it away. It was futile, anyway. The answer, he knew, was far longer than he would ever admit.

“I’m done fighting, Henry.” The king shot a glance at the casual use of his name, but let it slide. “I don’t want to fight with France. I’m- I’m  just tired.”

Anger flashed across the king’s face. He’d had more to drink than Charles’ first thought. “How dare you. What, you think you know better than me? You think you can tell me which battles to fight!”

“No. I’m sorry. I- I spoke out of turn.” Charles got up to escape whatever onslaught the king had planned, but he wasn’t quick enough. Henry grabbed him by the waistcoat and dragged him to the door behind the curtain. The one that led to the council chambers. 

“Say that to my face! Say you don’t want to fight to my face, Charles!”

Charles stared at his friend for a moment. The king’s eyes glinted in the dim candlelight. Fire and ice. So much blood between them. Want raged in his stomach and blocked out all other feelings. The strength left his body, and he slumped into a chair. Raising his head to the king, he said, “I don’t want to fight, Your Majesty. I don’t. I have only one passion now, and it is most  certainly not war.”

Henry rushed forward, pounding his hands on the armrests of Charles’ chair. “And what would this  passion  be? What keeps you from your sacred duty to your country?”

Charles let the question hang in the air as he searched the king’s face. He could lie. Say it was the hole in his heart left by his wife, or age and maturity. But no, it was time. He had nothing left to lose at this point.  If worse came to worst, he would send Catherine a letter telling her to flee and hide. But he couldn’t keep his ridiculous feelings hidden anymore . He was no longer a teen and love was no longer a game. 

“My love for the man who rules it.” he replied.

Henry pulled back. “What?”

“Your Majesty heard me. I do not wish to go to battle when I could stay here, by your side, and know you are safe.” The truth. It was lighter than Charles imagined it would be. 

Henry's eyes shifted again, this time to a look usually reserved for finer ladies of the court. “Is that the only reason, Charles? No fear, no cowardice.”

The king leaned in.

Charles' rasped, “Yes.”

“Your  love for me? How many times have I heard that people  loved me only to  be betrayed the next day?”

Charles’ courage roared inside of him and bent towards the king’s ear. “Too many times… Henry.”

A shudder ran down the king’s spine as Charles' breath tickled his ear. A small smile crept onto his face. Pleasure that he could make the king react that way. Henry pulled back to scrutinize him. This was the last hesitation. Get past this and there was no going back. Charles held the king’s gaze. He must, or else they would both lose their nerve. 

Then, finally, Henry’s lips were on his. They crashed together, rough and raw and hot and mad. Everything the king was, and everything Charles had become. Lingering, they explored this new sensation. Henry pulled back first, leaving Charles gasping. 

“You make an interesting case against war, Charles.” He purred.

“Do I?” It had been a long time since Charles had flirted, but he found the lilt came back as  naturally as breathing. 

“ Perhaps you could be of better use to me here.” The king gave a devilish smile and grasped the collar of Charles’ coat, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. It seemed impossible, but this one was hungrier and even more exciting than the first. 

When they parted once more, the king collapsed in a chair. He held his hand to his temple and closed his eyes to Charles. “Why are you doing this?  Surely you want something.” An edge of anger rose in his voice again. 

Charles fell to his knees at Henry’s feet. He took his love’s hands in his own and kissed each one. 

“Henry…” the king opened his eyes. “I have wanted nothing but this from you for longer than you know. Longer than I know,  probably .”

Skepticism shone in Henry’s eyes. Charles continued. “You and I have both had many lovers,  maybe too many, for I cannot remember the last time I  truly felt this way about anyone.”

“Your wife?” the king’s voice was quiet and reluctant. Almost as if he did not want to remind Charles of what he had. 

“She bears no love for me now. It would be unfair for both of us to keep trying where there has been failure for so long. I let her free long ago and suspect she did the same for me.” 

“Your son?” Another out, but Charles wouldn’t take the bait. He was the king’s now. And would remain that way.

“Has his father’s everlasting love, but his mother’s everlasting protection. For which I am grateful everyday. I know not what else I can tell Your Majesty to make you believe me, but I hope, in time, you will.” 

Henry got to his feet and pulled Charles up with him. His eyes searched for a lie, but found only love. Their lips connected once more, finding a sliver of peace in the torrent of their lives. The candlelight cast long shadows across both faces. Light and dark mingling in love as in life. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated :)


End file.
